Count D'Alba! Save him! Save him! D'Alba's gone,
And I have sentenced him.
(After a pause.
He would have chosen so,
Would rather have died a thousand deaths than so
Have lived! Oh who will succour me, shut up
In this lone tower! none but those horrid guards,
And yonder hoary traitor, know where the poor,
Poor Annabel is hidden; no man cares
How she may perish-only one-and he-
Preserve my wits! I'll count my beads; 'twill calm

Ann.

Jul.

Ask not.

Whither?

To my father.

Ann. Then he's alive-Oh happiness! They told

me

That he was dead. Why do we loiter here? Let's join him now.

Jul.

Ann.

Not yet.

Now! now! Thou know'st not How horribly these walls do picture to me The several agonies whereof my soul Hath drunk to-day. I have been tempted, Julian, By one-a fiend! tempted till I almost thought God had forsaken me. But thou art here To save me, and my pulse beats high again With love and hope. I am light-hearted now, And could laugh like a child-only these walls Do crowd around me with a visible weight, A palpable pressure; giving back the forms Of wildest thoughts that wandered through my brain, Bright chattering Madness, and sedate Despair, And Fear the Great Unreal!-Take me hence! Take me away with thee!

Jul. Not yet, not yet. Thou sweetest wretch! I cannot-Dotard! Fool! I must. Not yet! not yet!-Talk to me, Annabel; This is the hour when thou wast wont to make Earth Heaven with lovely words; the sun-set hour, That woke thy spirit into joy. Once more Talk to me, Annabel.

Ann.

Ay, all day long,

When we are free. Thy voice is choked; thy looks
Are not on me; thy hand doth catch and twitch
And grasp mine painfully,-that gentle hand!
Jul. O God! O God! that right hand!-kiss it not!
Take thy lips from it!
Ann.

Can'st thou save me, Julian? Thou always dost speak truth. Can'st save thyself? Shall we go hence together?

Through the casement

What? that grim ascent!

Jul. One home. Ann.

Ay, one fate

Why that is bliss. We shall be poor—

3

So sadly on me? Jul.

Why dost thou gaze

The bright stars, how oft
The Sun-look! look!
Blessed orb,

They fall, or seem to fall!
He sinks, he sets in glory.
Like thee-like thee-Dost thou remember once
We sate by the sea-shore when all the Heaven
And all the ocean seemed one glow of fire,
Red, purple, saffron, melted into one

Intense and ardent flame, the doubtful line
Where sea and sky should meet was lost in that
Continuous brightness; there we sate and talked
Of the mysterious union that blessed orb

Wrought between earth and heaven, of life and death,
High mysteries!--and thou didst wish thyself
A spirit sailing in that flood of light

Straight to the Eternal Gates, didst pray to pass
Away in such a glory. Annabel!

Look out upon the burning sky, the sea
One lucid ruby-'t is the very hour!
Thou 'it be a Seraph at the Fount of Light
Before-

Now!
[One of the murderers strikes at Julian with
his sword; Annabel rushes before him, re-
ceives the wound aimed at him, and fulls
at his feet.

Ann. (before she is wounded.) For thee!
Then after.

'Tis sweet!

For thee (dies.

Jul. Fiend, hast thou slain her? Die! die! die! Come on. (fights and kills him. Bert. Call instant help! Hasten the Count!

[Exit the other murderer. (Julian and Bertone fight, and Julian kills him. My wife! My murdered wife! Doth she not breathe? I

Jul.

thought

My sight is dim-Oh no! she's pale! she's cold!
She's still! If she were living she would speak
To comfort me. She's mute! she's stiff! she 's-dead!
Why do I shiver at the word, that am

Death's factor, peopler of unhallowed graves,
Slayer of all my race! not thee! not thee!
God, in his mercy, guided the keen sword

To thy white bosom,-I could not. Lie there.
I'll shroud thee in my mantle. (covering her with it
The rude earth

Will veil thy beauty next. One kiss! She died
To save me.-One kiss, Annabel! I slew
The slave that killed thee,-but the fiend, the cause-
Is he not coming?-I will chain in life

Till I've avenged thee; I could slay an army
Now in my strong despair. But that were mercy.
He must wear daggers in his heart. He loved her;-
I'll feed his hopes-and then-Ay-ha! ha! ha!
That will be a revenge to make the fiends
Laugh-ha! ha! ha! I'll wrap me in this cloak
(taking one belonging to the dead bravo.
And in the twilight-So-He will not know
My voice-it frightens me!-I have not hidden
Thee quite, my Annabel! There is one tress
Floating in springy grace-as if she's dead!
She's dead! I must not gaze, for then my heart
Will break before its time. He comes. The stairs
Groan at his pressure.

Enter D'Alba.

D'Alba (entering, to an Attendant).
Back, and watch the gate!-

All's tranquil. Where's the traitor?

Ann.

Jul.

I cannot draw it.

Ann.

Yes.

Jul. D'Alba.

My sword!

Jul. I.

Now! I'm ready.

Enter Bertone, and two Murderers.

Berl. Seize him! Yield thee, Prince Julian! Yield thee! Seize the lady. Jul. Oh fatal, fond delay! Dare not come near us! Stand off! I'll guard thee, sweet. But when I fall, Let him not triumph. Bert. Yield thee! Strike him down. Jul. Thou canst die then, my fairest. The two murderers have now advanced close to Julian.

Dead.

Who slew him?

RIENZI.

ACT I.

SCENE I.

Rome in the fourteenth century.—A Street in Rome.— A Temple in Ruins, in the back-ground a Portico, with columns in front of it, so managed that a person may appear and disappear amongst the pillars and recesses.

Enter Paolo, and three Citizens, meeting.

First Cit. Ah, Messer Paolo, a good morrow to thee!

The streets are full to-day. I have not seen
Such an outpouring of our Roman hive

Since the last jubilee. Whence comes the swarm?
Pao. The stirring Ursini, on a hot canvass

For their proud chief, the factious Martin.

First Cit. He,

Our senator! a proper ruler! sick, too,

And like to die.

Second Cit. Nay, he were harmless, then.
But 't is his brother, John, of Ursini,

The subtle John, that drives this business onward.
First Cit. A proper ruler! Martin Ursini,
That seized the Widow Landi's house to make
A kennel for his hounds-that carried off
The pretty child Emilia Fano-none
Hath e'er beheld her since.

Second Cit. "T was likelier John!

The dark, smooth, subtle John. He's the prime

mover

Of these iniquities.

Third Cit. Ye have bold tongues.
First Cit.

Art thou of their black faction?

Third Cit. No: I ply

My trade, and hold my peace.

Pao.

Should have been senator.

First Cit.

Stephen Colonna

No-he's too old:

The Count Savelli, or young Angelo.
Second Cit. "Tis ill to choose between them.
Third Cit. Ay, and dangerous

To meddle with such great ones. Dost not see
A man in yonder porch? (Looking toward the ruin.
Rienzi appears in the Temple, with a piece of decayed
marble in his hands.

Pao.

Our honest neighbour,

He haunts their palaces, and, with rancorous hate,
Pursues the Ursini. Didst never hear
How his young brother, poor Antonio, fell,

Murdered by their base groom? He hates the Ursini,

And follows the Colonna, scarce for love,

Rather to feast his learned spleen-for Cola

Is a ripe scholar-with sharp biting gibes

And dark predictions; a rank malcontent-
A bitter railer.

Second Cit. He approaches.

(Rienzi comes forward, with the piece of marble. Pao. Cola, What dragg'st thou there? a stone? Rie.

Pao.

Yet the yoke

Must! Be ye men?

What should we do?

Rie.

Why, Cola,
Talk, talk, my masters! Speech
Is your fit weapon. Talk! Women and slaves
So drown the rattle of their chains. Talk! talk!
And tell in gentle whispers, gazing round,
Lest other list'ners than the storied walls

Of these old temples hear ye, how on Monday
A noble gallant, one of the Corsi, stole-
Seized, is the courtlier phrase-and wrung the neck
Of Adriani's falcon, a famed bird,
Unmatch'd in Italy-the poor old man

Weeps as it were his child-or how, on Tuesday,
Black John, of Ursini, spurred his hot courser
Right through a band of pious pilgrims, journeying
To our lady of Loretto-marry, two
Are lamed for life-or how, on Wednesday-
Pao. Stop-

Rie.

I can go through the week. Pao. But, for the pilgrims

Art sure of that foul sacrilege?

As that thou standest there; as that the Ursini Parade the city. (Distant shouts.) Hark! do ye not hear

The shouting mob approach ?-Sure as that ye
Who frown, and lift your eyes, and shake your heads,
And look aghast at such foul sacrilege,

Will join your voice to that base cry, and shout,
Long live the Ursini! I know ye, masters.

Pao. Cola, thou wrong'st us.
Rie.
If I wrong ye-no!
Ye are Italians; men of womanish soul,
Faint, weak, emasculate the generous wrath
Of the manly Roman, with his lofty tongue,
Lies buried-not for ever. (Nearer shouts.) Hark!
Here comes

The tyrant of to-day. Go, swell his train.
I'll to my porch again, and feed my spirit
On these mute marbles.

Second Cit.

Third Cit.

A dangerous.

Urs. (To the mob.) Thanks, gentle friends. (To the Lords.) Yes, I expect to-morrow

A packet from Avignon; even Colonna
Will bow to Clement's mandate.

If he do not

Fra. Urs. Oh, never doubt; if he refuse, why, thenDoubt him not, Frangipani. Quicker, friends—

I hurry ye, my lords, but we are waited

At the Alberteschi Palace. Follow fast.
Crowd following) Live John of Ursini!

[Exeunt Ursini, &c.-Paolo and the three Citi-
zens come forward, and are stopped by an
armed Attendant.

Att. Why, what a sort of sullen citizens
Be here, that shout not! Doff thy bonnet, man!
Look at thy fellows! doff thy cap.

Pao.
Good friend-
All. What, must I be thy tierman?

[Knocks off Paolo's hat with his spear-Rienzi
rushes out from the Temple, wrests the spear
from the Attendant, and strikes him down
with it. Exit the Third Citizen.

Rie. Down, vile minion!

Rie.

Let them fly that fear. Fly! why the evil doer flies, not he That putteth down a wrong. Fly! I would call Rome, universal Rome, to view this deed, The type of that to come. Yon creeping slave, Struck with the strong brute force of power, fell Before my weaker arm, nerved by the spirit Of righteous indignation. So shall fall Tyrants and tyranny. Meet me to-night On the Capitoline Hill. Now I can trust ye, Now that the man is roused within your souls, The Roman ardour.

A brave man.

Full surely,

[Exeunt Rienzi, Paolo, and Citizens, bearing off the Attendant.

SCENE II.

in front of the Temple.

Enter Officers, sir Halberdiers, and Ursini, Frangipani, and two Lords, in conversation, followed by armed Attendants, and accompanied by a Crowd, who shout, "Live the Ursini," &c.

with a skein of red worsted; a Lattice down to the floor, opening into the Garden.

Enter Angelo and Claudia, through the Lattice. Cla. Beseech thee, now, away, Lord AngeloThou hast been here o'erlong.